


Long Weekend

by rosewindow



Series: OT3 'Verse [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewindow/pseuds/rosewindow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Allison have the apartment to themselves for the weekend and Scott is determined to make the most of every second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> A large chunk of this was written while watching Daunt draw OT3, so thanks Daunt!

It’s an hour drive from Davis to Berkeley and Scott goes the speed limit the whole time. If he didn’t demand that of himself, he would do the whole trip in like forty minutes, so desperate is he to see Allison again. It’s been a long semester. Scott doesn’t see Allison’s car when he pulls up, so he lets himself into the apartment.

“Hello?” he calls.

“Through here!” she calls back.

He heads into the bedroom she and Stiles share and grins. Allison is stretched across the bed, putting on new sheets. Her shorts barely cover her ass.

“Hello,” he says again with a smirk.

“Quit staring and come help me,” Allison says, tossing a pillow and pillowcase at him.

“You know we’re just going to get these dirty immediately?” he points out.

They have the apartment to themselves for the weekend - Stiles is away at a regatta and Ben took a girlfriend home to meet his family - and Scott is determined to make the most of every second.

“Oh really?” she says, tossing Scott’s pillow onto the bed.

“Well that was my plan,” he says, stepping close and taking her in his arms.

“Oh wait,” she ducks out of his hold, “I have something special I was going to wear. Drop your stuff, get comfy, I’ll be right back.”

She kisses his cheek and darts off to the closet. Scott drops his bag and puts his jacket and jeans on top of it, and then curls up in the fresh sheets. He’s a little sad that they don’t smell like Stiles anymore.

Scott wolf whistles when Allison comes out of the walk-in closet. The shirt is way too big for her and keeps slipping to reveal patches of skin over her shoulders and collarbone. It's practically dress-length as she pads across the room, but when she climbs into bed it slips up to reveal green and pink floral panties that clash with the blue and yellow Crew shirt. It must be one of Stiles's; it positively reeks of him. Scott presses his nose into her belly as she straddles his thighs, and inhales their combined scents.

"He wore it to bed all week," she says, stroking Scott's hair. "Ben and I practically had to force him onto the bus; he didn't want to miss all of your visit."

Scott is torn between wanting her to keep the shirt on and wanting easy access to the smooth skin of her stomach and breasts. He wavers for a moment, nuzzling against her while she continues running her fingers through his hair. They're both practically purring and Scott chuckles at the inappropriateness of the animal metaphor.

The desire for skin wins out eventually, and he noses the shirt up so he can kiss her belly button. Allison shudders and clenches her fingers against Scott’s scalp.

“Up or down?” Scott asks, lips brushing against her stomach.

“Up. _Fuck_. Come here.” She half pulls him up and half falls down until their lips are smashed together.

Scott runs his hands up the back of the shirt while she kisses all the air out of him.

“Clothes off, now,” she gasps, between bites to his jaw.

It’s hard to remove clothing without removing your lips from another person’s, but they work it out. Scott missed this view. He leans forward and peppers kisses across Allison’s collarbones, down her breastbone, and over to take a nipple into his mouth. Allison hisses and holds his head against his chest. Scott keeps sucking on one nipple while he swipes a thumb over the other before twisting it slightly.

Allison’s hips grind down against his thigh, and he presses his hard cock against her knee. It’s been so long since he’s been able to do this, and it’s probably going to be over quickly, but he wants it to be good for her.

"Do you want me to-" he asks, trailing his mouth down her stomach.

"Next time,” she cuts him off. “Next time. God, just fuck me now."

They fling panties and boxers across the room, and Scott hears something fall off the desk, but it didn’t sound like anything broke, so he goes back to kissing. Allison fumbles in Stiles’s bedside table for a condom, cursing at all the crap he’s got shoved in there. Finally she sits up and drops a condom triumphantly on Scott’s chest.

He rolls it on while she presses two fingers inside herself. Then she wraps that hand around his cock. It’s the first time she’s touched it tonight, and Scott moans.

“You probably don’t want to keep that up,” he groans.

Allison smirks, but takes pity on him, raises her hips, and guides him inside. He’s lost in sensation at first. God, but he’s missed this, missed her. He sits up and takes her nipple into his mouth again, teasing it with his tongue. Her steady rhythm stutters and he grins.

“Am I distracting you?”

“I’ll show you distracting.”

She shoves him flat on the bed, and starts riding him in earnest. He grips her hips tightly, and props his knees up so he can grind up into her. She gasps and attacks him with her lips, sucking a continually vanishing bruise just under his jaw. He’s panting now, can feel his orgasm building, but wants her to get off first. He slips a hand across her hip and slides it between their bodies until his index finger is stroking against her clit. She bites down on his neck.

“Fuck,” she moans, sitting up and sliding her knees wider so he can reach better without stopping the roll of her hips.

“Marry me, please,” Scott gasps, and Allison laughs as she comes around him, drawing out his own orgasm.

\---

“What do you want to do today?” Allison asks the next morning.

“Brunch, maybe a stroll, and then not leave the bed for the rest of the weekend?” he suggests.

“So unimaginative, Scott,” she tsks. “Think of all the other places we could have sex.”

He laughs. “Ben’ll know,” he points out.

“Please. I’ve caught him having sex in pretty much every room of this apartment. The boy does _not_ know how to lock a door. Payback is sweet.”

“Where do you want to start?” Scott asks, nibbling up her throat and whispering in her ear.

She hums. “Ooo! The recliner chaise. It’s the comfiest thing ever. Come on!”

She darts naked through the apartment and Scott chases after her. He temporarily pins her against the bookcase, rattling textbooks and knocking one of Stiles’s field journals to the floor.

“Oops,” Scott giggles, and Allison uses his distraction to dash away and throw herself into the enormous recliner.

Scott stalks closer and perches on the end of the chaise. He knocks her knees wider and grins up at her. Allison moans, and one of her hands traces patterns down her chest.

“Not so fast,” Scott teases, stopping her before she can reach her goal. “I haven’t gotten to do this in two months.”

Scott’s feet are trailing on the ground and his dick is rubbing against the edge of the recliner, but he lowers himself down so he’s propped up on his elbows, keeping Allison’s thighs spread. He ducks his head down and presses a kiss to the crease where her leg meets her hip. Allison whines and opens herself wider, unable to control the little hitches of her hips. Scott smirks, and dives in.

He loves doing this. Loves how Allison’s usual composure and calm just crumbles as he kisses her open and darts his tongue out, alternating between little licks and long strokes. The last time he came down was for Stiles’s birthday in late February and they’d worked out this magical three-way-69. Scott was still jerking off to the feel of Allison coming around his tongue and fingers while Stiles sucked his brain out through his dick. He’s a little bit addicted, is the point he’s trying to make. Luckily, Allison has no complaints either, and when he slips two fingers in alongside his tongue she comes with a sharp yell, and bucks Scott off of her.

Werewolf reflexes mean he catches himself before he falls, but he’s balanced precariously. He doesn’t realize how precariously until Allison wraps a hand around his dick and tugs a few times, and he’s falling over the edge and off the chair.

Laughing and apologizing breathlessly, Allison slides to join Scott on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

He nods, smiling.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” he muses. “That we’d survive werewolves, and hunters, and Alpha Packs, and that fucking Nematon, and end up here?”

“Well, we were in this position quite a bit during all of that,” Allison points out stroking a hand idly up and down his bicep.

Scott reaches up to kiss her lightly. “Not for all of it,” he whispers.

“No,” she admits. “And Stiles was a surprise too.”

Scott blushes. “That part, uh, that part didn’t surprise me all that much actually.”

“Really?”

Scott shrugs, and then winces as his shoulders rub against the cheap carpet.

“Get up. I should get a rag for that anyway,” Allison sighs, gazing mournfully at the jizz that landed on the side of the recliner.

Scott chuckles. “Come on. Clean up, then clothes, then croissants!”

“Yes!” Allison crows, hopping up and shimmying naked into her bedroom.

Scott follows, watching her fondly.

“Will you marry me?”

Allison freezes, halfway through pulling her panties on.

“Not right away,” Scott splutters. “Shit, I mean, I don’t even have a ring or anything, and Stiles- fuck, he’s gonna be pissed at me.”

The underwear ends up back on the floor as Allison pounces on him.

\---

They make it out of the apartment for an early dinner. Scott waffles between the fancy restaurant nearby and the diner with questionable health scores but fantastic omelettes. In the end, Allison decides.

“I’ve just been proposed to. I need hashbrowns.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Scott says sheepishly. “I should have planned something romantic.”

“I’ll act surprised when you do,” Allison grins.

“I hadn’t even thought about how we would work that out, actually,” Scott says thoughtfully, snitching a bite of Allison’s hashbrowns.

“You’ve thought about our future? The three of us?”

“Of course,” Scott says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I love you - both of you - and I want to stay with you forever. If you guys want to, of course.”

“Of course I want that,” Allison says, “And Stiles does too. But we’ve still got to graduate from college and-”

“I know, I know. I don’t- I didn’t really mean to propose now, and even if we did get engaged, I’m fine waiting - as long as you want - before we get married. I just, want you to know how much I love you.”

Allison leans across the scuffed laminate table to kiss him.

“I love you too, Scott.”

\---

Scott is awoken on Sunday morning by Stiles crawling into bed behind him.

“Hey man,” Scott whispers, twisting around for a kiss. “I thought you weren’t coming back ‘til tonight?”

“One of the other guys was driving back early, so I hitched a ride,” Stiles replies softly.

Scott looks back to make sure Allison is still sleeping soundly, and then rolls over so they can talk. “I proposed to Allison.”

Stiles’s eyes go wide, but he manages not to make a sound. “What’d she say?” he hisses, when he’s finally gotten himself under control.

“Well, nothing yet. I mean, I didn’t _really_ propose to her. It was an accident.”

“Do you want to propose?” Stiles asks, something hard glinting in his eyes.

“ _Yes_! Yes, just, the moment wasn’t right. Neither of us were wearing clothes, we were both covered in jizz-”

“Sounds like a good moment to me.”

Scott smacks him upside the head as quietly as he can and rolls his eyes.

"Ummm, actually, I should tell you..." Stiles reaches over and paws through all the crap in his bedside table. "Here we go."

He drops a little velvet bag on Scott's chest.

"We went to a Renaissance festival, and I saw them, and they seemed kind of perfect. I had to guess at sizes, but..."

Scott opens the bag and out drop three rings each made of three interlocking bands of gold, silver, and bronze.

"The lady at the stall said they used to be used as wedding rings. If you took it off it would fall apart and you couldn't get it back together, so your spouse would know you'd been unfaithful."

He shakes one out to show Scott, and then deftly reforms the ring.

"It's kind of silly, I guess. We don't have to use them."

Scott kisses him.

“I think they’re perfect.”

Stiles slides them back into the bag and drops them in the drawer just as Allison grumbles awake.

“You two are really loud, you know that?”

“Sorry, love,” Scott apologizes, dropping a kiss on her nose.

She wrinkles it adorably, and Scott grins.

“Hey Stiles, hand those back, would you?” Scott asks.

Allison frowns and sits up. “What?”

Scott pulls out the smallest ring and holds it out to her. “Allison Argent. Will you marry us?”

Allison’s eyes go wide and her dimples slowly appear as a smile spreads across her face. She takes the ring and admires it.

“You got this last September,” she says to Stiles. “Have you been planning this since then?”

“Not specifically. I just figured, you know, someday I’d want you two to make an honest man of me.”

Scott snorts.

“I want to see yours,” Allison says, reaching for the bag. “Oh. These are perfect.”

“So, are you saying yes?”

“Oh! Yes! Yes, of course!”

She holds out her hand and Stiles slips the ring onto her ring finger. Then he and Scott slip theirs on.

“It’ll be a funny sort of wedding,” Stiles says with a wry smile.

“The wedding doesn’t matter,” Allison insists. “I just want to spend the rest of my life with you two.”

Scott leans over to kiss her. “I love you,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek, her nose, her forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments/critiques/chitchat either here or in my tumblr askbox (rosewindow.tumblr.com).


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